


Don't Call Me Late for Dinner

by mosylu



Series: Let Me Count the Ways [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Gen, Seriously this may rot your teeth, on the value of eating dessert first, platonic fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 19:48:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12801066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosylu/pseuds/mosylu
Summary: Baze runs late to dinner and discovers that he missed his chance at a dessert he remembers fondly from his youth. Jyn's got his back, though.





	Don't Call Me Late for Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> For today’s NaNo prompt, I wanted to do another platonic one from the list of 100 Ways to Say I Love You. I picked Baze and Jyn and “I saved you a piece.”

Dessert wasn’t a given in the Rebellion mess. Or rather, edible dessert wasn’t a given. Most of the time, it was a protein gelatin that didn’t taste of anything but sweet. Occasionally, it was something else, when a supply ship came in with some unexpected ingredient. What “something else” was greatly depended on the ingredient, who was on duty, and the amount of time they had.

So when Baze walked into the mess and saw squares of sticky cake on people’s trays, he picked up the pace. No way was he missing this.

Sticky cake was a NiJedhan specialty, layers of cake and fruit and honey all soaking together. He hadn’t had it in years. Even before the destruction of NiJedha, fruit was hard to come by and honey was a luxury item, and the monastery couldn’t get enough of either to make sticky cake for everyone.

Logically, he knew it wouldn’t taste like the cake his mother had made, or the cake he himself had made at the monastery as a young apprentice on kitchen duty. The “honey” would probably be dyed sugar syrup and the fruit would be strange.

But it would be close. His mouth watered.

He got a tray and waited while the kitchen worker loaded it with mashed tubers and some meat hash and even some steamed vegetables. It must have been a very good supply ship.

When he got to the end of the line, he studied the offerings and frowned. “Any cake left?”

The worker shook his head. “Gelatin,” he offered brightly, scooping up a square from the tray and holding it out on his spatula. “Green today.”

The square wobbled slightly, looking radioactive.

Baze shook his head. “No, thanks.”

The children at the monastery all used to mumble along with him, “You get what you get,” when they’d pout and whine about some little injustice. He would rub their heads or backs in silent sympathy to go along with the unsympathetic words and send them off to sit with their friends. Getting upset didn’t change things. He knew that now more than ever.

But he plodded toward the table that held the rest of Rogue One - minus his husband, who was off-base on a diplomatic mission with Mon Mothma. (It had been decided that Baze’s repeater cannon was rather undiplomatic.) Chirrut would be sorry he’d missed sticky cake. Baze, who’d actually had the chance at it but ran late to dinner, was sorrier.

Bodhi flagged him down. “Did you see they had sticky cake?” he said brightly.

“They were out,” he grunted, setting his tray down harder than he meant to. It crashed into the table, bits of meat hash jumping up and smashing down again like the aftermath of a meteor strike.

“Thought they might be,” Jyn said. “Here.” She nudged his arm.

“What?”

She nudged him again, harder, and he lifted his arm. Using her fork, she transferred a gooey square of cake from her tray to his, dropping it into the empty spot where the worker had offered to put the gelatin.

He stared at it. Honey oozed onto the plastic tray, a little corner of some unknown red fruit poking out from between two layers of cake.

He looked at Jyn. She smiled crookedly. “I saved you a piece.”

She had a sweet tooth and she liked trying new things, and the kitchen workers were absolute terrors about everybody getting the exact amount of calories their nutritional requirements dictated. But here was the cake, on his tray and not hers.

“Thank you, little sister,” he said.

She shrugged and turned back to her food, forking up mashed tubers as if she hadn’t done anything particularly special, continuing some conversation with Cassian on her other side.

Baze picked up his fork to cut off a little corner of cake. It was sugar syrup, with some added honey flavoring, and the fruit was - some kind of unfamiliar berry, he thought, almost too tart. He looked up at Bodhi, who said, “Pretty good, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he said, and took another mouthful. 

It tasted just as sweet as it always had.

FINIS

**Author's Note:**

> I’m hoping to do at least one of these for Jyn and every member of Rogue One, and maybe some other combinations within Rogue One, so if there’s something from that list you’d love to see, please drop by mosylufanfic.tumblr.com!


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